


All in Good Taste

by BarPurple



Category: Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris, Ravenous (1999)
Genre: Cannibalism, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 12:26:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13927140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: Ives finds a kindred spirit in Baltimore.





	All in Good Taste

Times had changed, and Ives had had to evolve in order to fed and stay hidden. In war time it was simple to hide his feeding; he’d become adept at forging his documents when he needed to up-date his identity and the lumbering beast of military bureaucracy allowed him to move from base to base in relative anonymity. If there were unfortunate accidents, or an inexplicable rise in AWOL soldiers at the bases where he was stationed, well, that couldn’t be traced to him, it was a simple correlation, not a causation, a glitch of statistics and nothing more.

His desire to see more of the world than barracks and bases in olive drab had spurred him to leave the military and make a life for himself in the civilian world. Several healthy bank accounts had eased his way into higher society, and he’d developed quite the taste for the finer things. He’d had to be careful about his menu options but were the crème de la crème gathers there is always a seedy underbelly that offered him ideal pickings.

After roaming for a time he’d settled in Baltimore on a whim. He’d quickly discovered that the city had a wonderful Philharmonic and dedicated himself to become accepted in the crowd of wealthy patrons. His old-world manners and charm made it a relatively simple task, plus he was immensely knowledgeable on classical music, since in had been the popular music of his youth, not that he mentioned that little detail to anyone, unless he was making a jest about his age.

After the disappearance of the flautist, Raspial, Ives found himself with a much-envied invitation to a dinner hosted by the esteemed Dr Lecter. He had met the man several times at various social events and been intrigued. To be brutally honest, Ives had begun to wonder if he had found a kindred spirit, a man who would embrace the life he led.

After the first taste of the sweetbreads the doctor served Ives realised his minor error in thinking. Lecter had already embraced the life of the wendigo, and the doctor had done so with flair and style. Lecter caught his smile across the table and Ives raised his glass to compliment the exquisite skill of the chef. The other guests followed suit and Ives’ noticed Lecter’s eyes narrow on him. The look was gone in an instant, but a challenge was issued, and Ives had never been one to back down from a challenge.

Once dinner was complete and the party were circulating with drinks to gossip about the missing flautist, Ives excused himself to the balcony to smoke a cigar. After only a few moments the door opened behind him and another stepped out into the cool night air. Ives blew out his lungful of smoke over the balcony and then politely turned to greet his host.

“Doctor Lecter, please forgive my indulgence, an old habit which I will not let die.”

With a small movement of his hand Lecter revealed a silver cigarette case; “I fully understand your dedication, Mr Ives.”

With languid, yet precise movements Lecter removed and lit a slim Italian cigarette. Ives let him take that first blissful inhale before he casually said; “I wonder, Dr Lecter, if I might know the name of your butcher, a man of considerable skill with a knife.”

Lecter dipped his head and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth; “You are quite the flatterer, sir, a toast to my cooking during the first course, and now a compliment to my knife skills. I am my own butcher, Mr Ives.”

There was a hint of threat beneath the oh so civil words, and Ives decided it was only polite to return it in kind.

“One more thing we have in common, I too prefer to do my own butchery, it’s simpler when one’s favoured meat is long pork.”

He could have addressed his words to a statue for all of the reaction the Lecter betrayed. After another long drag on his cigarette he stepped closer to Ives and whispered; “A bold statement, sir, one which could attract all manner of inconvenient attention should it come to certain ears.”

Lecter twitched an eyebrow when Ives burst into laughter; “Oh I am sure you could make me the perfect patsy, but it would be a terrible waste of both our times. I’ve been doing this for a very, very long time doctor, but I have never met a fellow aficionado with as much style as yourself.”

Ives held his ground and waited, the next move was the doctor’s. Lecter stepped back with a smile, to anyone who may have been observing them from inside they were two men who had just shared a scandalous joke.

“I hope you will be staying in Baltimore for a while longer Mr Ives, from what you have said I believe it would be to my benefit to go shopping for meat with you. Perhaps next time you would do me the honour of cooking?”

The phrase ‘have you for dinner’ hung unspoken in the air between them, the words they must avoid using unless they wished to declare war. Ives clicked his heels together and bowed; “It would be a delight to show off my culinary skills for a master, although I beg you to not judge me to harshly for my peasant fare.”

The twinkle in Lecter’s eyes revealed the offered accord had been accepted.

“I always enjoy experiencing new tastes,” – he gestured towards the door, - “Forgive me, I am neglecting my duties as host, we will continue this invigorating discussion later?”

“I look forward to it.”

Lecter stepped back inside, and Ives took a deep inhale on his cigar. The tension he’d been controlling since he’d identified Doctor Lecter as a wendigo left his body with the exhale of smoke. The good doctor’s first name occurred to Ives and he chuckled at the starry sky, how apt, and it even rhymed.

In only a handful of months Ives saw the rhyme that had made him chuckle splashed across the headline of every newspaper from tabloid to broadsheet; Hannibal the Cannibal Captured.


End file.
